The Heart of a Briton
by brynerose
Summary: *end of series* Destiny can take one of many paths, and perhaps the field of Camlann is not the end after all... One-shot, more description inside.


**A/N: So…what started as a silly little indulgence of mine has turned into a sort of last hurrah. Yes, I know now everyone's going to be doing their take on THE END. The muse told me to do it. I like to keep endings relatively happy, if perhaps a bit bittersweet, so in this case I took my inspiration from another fantasy story that is dear to me, **_**Dragonheart**_**. NOTE, THIS IS NOT A CROSSOVER. Just me positing how the legend might end in this particular telling. Please, no flaming. If there's a problem, I can handle it with the admins. Thanks!**

**Oh, and the beginning works off of an old theory that I had as to Aithusa's condition—that Morgana kept being healed because the dragon took on her injuries, and she eventually started to abuse the connection. This has since been disproven, I just want to leave it in for my own flavoring. I also kept Elyan, because he just rounds out the knights too well : )  
_**_

Amid the shouts, the clanging, the carnage, Emrys bore down upon the injured Morgana. With Aithusa no longer under her control, the witch couldn't shed her hurts onto the unfortunate creature. "Is this what you wanted, Morgana?" demanded the powerful old warlock.

"Please," she begged. "I didn't mean…I never wanted…"

"Be gone, witch. I can only hope you find the peace you so desperately need in the next world," Emrys responded, a great deal more quietly. Regretfully, even. "Goodbye, and…I'm sorry."

A cry they both recognized drew his attention further up the battlefield. The old man drew a carefully padded vial from his robes, and drank. As Morgana's vision darkened, she saw the age shrivel away until only a slight, raven-haired man remained.

"M…Merlin…?" It was the last thing she saw.

As for Merlin, he could have collapsed with grief right then and there. He hadn't wanted it to happen this way. Somewhere, deep inside him, he had retained a hope that they could win her back from the darkness. But Morgana had refused any alternative to the path she had chosen. There was nothing more he could do. He meant what he said, though, about hoping she finally found peace.

Those thoughts would have to hold off until later. Arthur's cry had been one of pain and despair. He needed help, Merlin could sense it. Always could. Billowing red robes still around his shoulders, he took off at a run.

Arthur and Mordred—Merlin's heart dropped at another reminder of where he had failed—squared off amid a cluster of skeletal trees. Both had taken a few hits. And just like in the vision he'd received so long ago from the druid seer, he saw the younger man's sword disappear into Arthur's chest. The king sank to his knees.

"_Noooooooo!_"

Merlin sent the druid knight flying quite a distance, landing unconscious at the very least. _No, no, Arthur can't be dead, he can't be! It's my destiny to protect him!_ He tore the knees of his trousers with his own landing next to Arthur, catching his friend's shoulders before they hit the ground. "Come on, stay with me, Arthur! You…you're going to be okay. You've seen worse, believe me!"

Arthur's breathing was already dreadfully ragged and weak. The hand that grasped his sword mere moments ago now clutched at his rent chainmail, glistening crimson with the spreading blood. "L-Looks like you've got some mending to-to do later, Merlin…"

Merlin was losing the battle with his unbidden tears. "Don't do this to me. There's so much we haven't accomplished yet!"

"Gwen…I wish…I could have seen her…one last time…"

A limping, bloodied Gwaine appeared out of the smoke, one of the surviving horses in tow. _That's it._ Merlin shouted him over.

"Gwaine—I need you to ride as fast as you can for Camelot. Get Gwen. Have her meet us at the clearing south of the city."

The baffled knight blinked at him. "What are you—"

"Go! There's not time to explain. Just make sure she gets there!" As soon as Gwaine hauled himself into the saddle and thundered off, Merlin attempted to shift the fading king. His Dragoon robe would have to do as bandaging for the moment. Arthur cried out from the pain.

"Sorry, clotpole, we can't stay here. I saw another horse a little ways back to get us to the clearing."

Arthur mumbled incoherently, but he wasn't struggling, so Merlin took that as an advantage. As long as Arthur stayed awake, they still had time. He dragged them through the desolate landscape, pointedly avoiding Morgana's body, toward a skittish horse taking refuge under one of the few healthier-looking trees. The animal's eyes were huge, and its ears twitched and flared wildly.

"Shh, we're not going to hurt you," Merlin attempted to soothe it. "We need your help. Arthur has to get back to the city."

"'Ur you talking to a horse, Merlin? Idiot…" the king slurred.

Merlin didn't have the luxury of arguing when trying to hoist a flopping man who was considerably heavier than himself. Arthur was losing blood at an alarming rate. Both of them were losing time. Without letting go of Arthur's arm, he thought a levitation spell to nudge his dying master—no, he was _not_ going to die—into the saddle, and climbed up behind him. Then he urged the horse to as great a speed as it could manage with two riders.

Arthur passed out somewhere around the halfway point. Merlin couldn't decide if he preferred this to the weak groans he had been listening to up until then. Regardless, he did not like the greyish pallor Arthur had taken on, even if it was partially due to the fading daylight under the forest canopy.

_Faster, they had to go faster!_

He could no longer wait. Whether Arthur could hear him or not wouldn't matter soon, anyway. Without slowing the horse, he threw his head back and bellowed in the dragon tongue.

It was fully dark by the time they reached the clearing. Merlin guided the horse sternly as Kilgarrah pulled forward overhead (the dragon had kept pace through the last stretch of forest). Gwen, Gwaine, and a few of the other surviving knights were already there, all thoroughly alarmed by the appearance of a creature they all thought dead. But now was not the time for long-winded explanations. He pulled the horse to a halt as Kilgarrah landed, and tried not to drop Arthur out of the saddle.

"I need your help, Kilgarrah! The wound is too severe for me; is there anything you can do? And Gwen—I need you over here!"

Only the sight of her limp husband could persuade the queen to come any closer to the dragon. The knights, despite their exhaustion, held weapons at the ready. The air was thick with tension and desperation. Merlin fought to swallow his heart back down.

"No! He won't hurt us, he's a friend! He's the only one who can help Arthur!" he pleaded to the clearing at large.

"And what is it you want me to do exactly, young warlock?" queried the ancient winged lizard. If anyone was shocked by this title, their existing near-panic covered it.

"Something—anything! Save him, whatever it takes to do that!"

Arthur moaned pathetically. Gwen, already in tears, scooped him into her arms with no thought to the gown she wore. "Arthur? It's me, Guinevere! Please, open your eyes! Just look at me, Arthur!"

Kilgarrah surveyed the scene around him with those fathomless golden eyes. Prophecy, _destiny_ hung in the balance, didn't he see that? Merlin only barely restrained himself from raging at his pensive magical mentor. They didn't have time for this! Either he helped now, or it was all over.

"There is one thing I can do," the dragon pronounced slowly. "But it comes at a great cost."

Hope nearly strangled Merlin on top of his anxiety. "Well, do it! Damn the consequences!"

"Understand what you're asking, Merlin. This remedy is powerful magic, the likes of which haven't been used in centuries. If I bestow it onto Arthur, he will not be able stay in this world."

"So he'll die anyway? What's the point of that?!" Gwaine protested from the line of knights curving around the royal couple. But even his wayward mouth was cowed by Kilgarrah's fierce gaze.

"You misunderstand me, Sir Knight. Arthur will no longer be able to age if I save him, and such a change in the balance of life and death cannot be permitted here. Great power too easily corrupts among mortal men. But he may travel to Avalon, the home of the Blessed, and there he may live on in peace." The towering head swiveled back to Merlin. "To make this journey _would_ ensure his actions and legacy unite Albion at last. Camelot, and all the other lands, would be saved."

Merlin could hardly breathe. His right hand tightly gripped Gwen's shoulder; his friend and queen shook with emotion. After they shared a weighted look, he nodded for the both of them. Kilgarrah returned the gesture.

"I will, however, need the king's acquiescence in order to complete the pact."

Merlin dropped to his knees beside Gwen. Arthur showed no sign of movement beyond faulty breaths. The blood, there was too much of it…

"Please, Arthur, open your eyes one more time," begged Gwen. "Accept the dragon's offer! Then you can see Avalon…please…"

_Come on, Arthur,_ Merlin prayed silently.

"King of Camelot, I need you to acknowledge what I have said before I can help you," the dragon chimed in.

The hanging moment stretched into an eternity. Everyone kept perfectly still, even the horses. Merlin's tears returned to taunt him once more. It couldn't be too late. To come this far only to fail? He wouldn't accept that!

Then Arthur's head moved jerkily to the side. He seemed to force his eyes open, surprisingly at peace to meet his one-time foe again on the exact same field. In fact, any vehemence or apprehension of magical doings was absent.

"I accept your offer, Dragon. If it means Camelot will be safe, I will do what is necessary." Muscles spasmed with the effort in his fading condition. Gwen's tears renewed as she clung to him.

"Very well. There is no turning back. You truly are the Once and Future King."

"Please!" Gwen suddenly burst out. "Let me go with him! I—I don't know if that's allowed, a mere mortal entering Avalon, but don't part me from him, I beg of you." It was difficult to tell whether she or Arthur was shaking worse now. "He's my love, all I have left…"

Kilgarrah studied her for a minute. "I will grant your request. Arthur needs you just as much as he has needed Merlin all these years. However, someone must stay if his legacy is to be carried out."

"I will," croaked Merlin, swallowing hard. All eyes turned to him. "My duty is to destiny of Albion. To the king. Even without him here in this world, my task will continue. It must." That is, if he could survive this soul-wrenching moment. He wasn't entirely sure his heart could take it, to be honest. All he had left was faith.

"As you should. As long as he endures in Avalon, so will you in this world," Kilgarrah declared, though his tone was bittersweet. With that, he hunkered low over the little group before him. One dangerous claw went to his plated chest.

The natural armor parted, apparently without pain to the dragon. A warm, red glow emanated from the gap. Everyone was bathed in the soothing thrum of a deep heartbeat. He locked gazes with Arthur. "Half my heart to make you whole…live, Once and Future King, and fulfill your destiny for this land." Merlin watched with his mouth hanging open as part of the glow came away in Kilgarrah's talon. The dragon carefully lowered it to Arthur's torn, shuddering chest. The glow first intensified to the point where everyone had to shield their eyes, and then it faded completely. When the giant claws retreated, the wound had sealed into a fiery line in Arthur's open chainmail.

"In this world, he would be vulnerable if I were to die. But in Avalon, no harm can come to him," concluded the formidable creature. His chest had closed up as well.

Arthur stirred with real life for the first time in hours, sending relief through everyone present. Gwen practically shone with happiness as her husband looked purposely into her eyes. "Wh-what happened?"

"The dragon saved your life, Arthur. He gave you…p-part of his heart." This time her tears were of joy. She embraced him without giving him a choice in the matter, which Merlin would have found amusing if he wasn't already overcome with a bittersweet pall. To avoid fully confronting his mixed feelings, he turned to Kilgarrah.

"Thank you. Albion is as indebted to you as to any of us. Perhaps more. I don't think destiny would have gotten anywhere without you," he told his scaly friend.

The dragon took on his typical cryptic smile. "I don't know about that, young warlock. Destiny has a way of finding us no matter which path we choose. But you're very welcome. Now, at least for Arthur and Guinevere, that path leads to Avalon." He dipped his head low, bringing his gaze level with Merlin's. "And someday, yours will too. Do not despair for the time spent apart."

"Really?"

All he was given was that maddening smile. Of course. This time, Merlin found he actually didn't need more than that. So he turned his attention back to the building endeavor of getting the king to Avalon.

"How do we get there, exactly?" asked Leon.

"I will show you," Merlin answered. "First we need the means to travel. Arthur is safe from death, but he's in no fit state to ride. We'll need a cart, and fresh horses. It's only fitting that the Round Table knights be present. And Gaius—he'll want to be able to…say goodbye…"

The knights quickly set about with the preparations. Merlin intended to join them, until a firm hand grabbed his wrist.

"I want you to stay…" Arthur was fully awake, already looking much improved. He was even smiling and chuckling with Gwen. When Merlin obeyed his request, however, he turned serious. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Sorry?"

"All these years, you've had the ability to show everyone the good in magic—to show _me_—and you never did. Hell, if we didn't listen, I bet you could have blasted us all to pieces! Yes, I pay attention more than you think. Your efforts in battle are more than they seem, they always have been. Why hide all that as a servant?"

Heat rose in Merlin's face. "Well, in my defense, no, I did not think I would necessarily have been able to convince you. I guess I couldn't live with the thought of forcing magic to be accepted. You had to find it for yourself." He tried to get rid of the tension he felt by shrugging the matter off. "And for what it's worth, I always had faith that you would come around. Eventually."

Both Arthur and Gwen smiled. The king grasped Merlin's forearm in a rare show of endearment. "You're a true friend, Merlin."

"Although there were times when I had to wonder—"

"Merlin_._"

"—I mean, you have the incredible potential to be daft at the worst possible—"

"_Merlin_."

"Yes?"

"Shut up." Arthur had to relax back into Gwen's arms for a moment. "You're ruining the moment. Just enjoy the fact that I'm agreeing with you."

"Oh, I am," Merlin assured him, his characteristic grin returning for the first time he-didn't-know-how-long.

The knights returned with the necessary transportation in a surprisingly short time. Leon and Percival aided the king in getting comfortable on the cart, while Gwen settled in next to him and Merlin readied his own mount. Gaius insisted on checking Arthur over for posterity, making sure the short transition hadn't created any new problems. Or perhaps he just wanted to see the miracle for himself. No one could blame him. Kilgarrah remained quietly to the side. Once everyone was sorted, Merlin took the lead.

"Right. It's only about an hour's ride from here. Kilgarrah, you may go on, if you'd like to meet us there. We won't even pass Camelot's border, so I don't expect much trouble between here and the lake."

The journey was quiet, for the most part. One-on-one conversations popped up here and there, but otherwise they rode to the sounds of crackling torches and nocturnal forest life. Merlin's assumptions were correct; they went unchallenged the entire way.

_Will I still see you from time to time? _Merlin asked of Kilgarrah through the telepathic link all magical beings shared. _It could get quite lonely, without the prat to liven up the daily routine._

_You are my Dragonlord, Merlin. If you wish to meet, I will not refuse. And I should like the company, as well. Our existences are not populated with many true friends, unfortunately._

_But you could still have Aithusa. Have you seen her, by the way? After I released her from Morgana's grasp? _Another pang struck Merlin's heart as he thought of the young dragon he brought into the world—and when he had discovered her severe mistreatment.

He could almost picture Kilgarrah's somber expression. _We have crossed paths. She has a chance now to heal somewhat. I believe there will be hope for her yet. However, it will take time for her to trust again._

_I want to help with that, as much as I can. I feel responsible for her…_

_You did not bring suffering upon her, and you have shown that you will not stand for it to continue. Do not burden yourself with guilt that should not belong to you._

Merlin took this under advisement; he was probably harsher on himself than necessary. It was hard to avoid when he could so easily affect everything around him. But he put the matter out of mind for the moment. A wash of warmth and the hint of strawberries told him their destination was close. _Freya, I have something important to ask of you._

Gaius brought his horse level with Merlin's. "I've never told you enough, but I'm proud of you. Your mother and father would be, too. We always knew you could succeed in your destiny." he said in a lower voice. Merlin called up a small smile for his surrogate parent.

This time Kilgarrah kept a fair distance, for the comfort of the horses. Here he was more of a witness than participant, anyway. Merlin directed the cart close to the shoreline. As on his previous visits, a boat rested in the reeds. He noticed it was now the appropriate size for two.

While he readied the boat, Arthur called the knights to him one by one. He bestowed some kind of personal blessing and farewell to each of them. Sometimes Gwen chimed in, or simply offered a hug. To Leon, the last of them, he also passed Excalibur to be the ceremonial mark of continued leadership, never to be a symbol of war again (Yes, Merlin may have stretched out his magic to eavesdrop on that part). He made Leon swear to it. The Round Table would endure in Camelot as a legacy of justice and authority. Next he spoke briefly to Gaius. The old physician had often been a second father and mentor to the young royal. And at long last—

"Merlin."

"And here I thought you might have forgotten me." Merlin rejoined the group, preparing to help the injured king to the waiting boat. But Arthur refused his hand at first.

"You are possibly the last person anyone could even try to forget," he chuckled. Then he let the moment fall serious. "I'm sorry it's taken me all these years to realize how much I owe to you. Your loyalty, your insight, your friendship…maybe your dragon friend is right. I couldn't have gotten anywhere without you at my side, and for that I'm eternally grateful. Quite literally now, it seems. Whatever happens in your life, remember that." Once again, they clasped forearms as true equals.

Gwen threw her arms around Merlin's shoulders. "We love you, Merlin, and we'll be in your heart as long as you let us." She was crying—again—though Merlin found he didn't mind. This was goodbye, as far as they knew it.

"Kilgarrah says we'll see each other again someday," he whispered in her ear. "That's something for you to hold onto."

They all exchanged watery smiles, much as they didn't want to admit to it. Arthur finally allowed himself to be hoisted off the cart between Merlin and Gwen. Beyond the mountains at the far end of the lake, dawn made its first hints known.

Once his friends were situated into the boat, Merlin began to recite in the language of the Old Religion. He had no idea where the words came from. He called to Freya, asking for safe passage and for the doors to Avalon to open. He asked for the powers of the Old Religion to watch over the king. He asked for guidance for them all. It was the most religious-like he had ever been in his life. And he didn't even know what the words would do.

The boat started to move. At the bow, he saw the misty image of his only real love, stretching a hand out to him in answer. A light quite unconnected to the building sunrise suddenly grew in the center of the lake. This point was where the boat headed.

"_Your words have been heeded, great warlock. Avalon will grant them," _a voice that was at once Freya's, and something more, floated gracefully to the shore.Apparently everyone could hear them, as Kilgarrah nodded, and all the knights glanced around in confusion. Merlin smiled. Tears at last overflowed down his cheeks as the boat faded away into the unearthly light. Freya blew him a soft kiss before she too disappeared.

"That," Gwaine spoke out into the chill silence that followed, "was the weirdest experience I have ever had. And that's saying something." Then he was sprawled on the ground, howling with protests—Elyan, Percival, and Leon had all shoved him at the same time.

"What happens now?" Gaius asked on behalf of everyone.

Leon swallowed with difficulty. "The king…he commanded that I succeed him. I'm not sure I can…" The other knights struggled to express their reassurances. Percival laid a hand on the former second-in-command's shoulder.

"Arthur believes you can. You're already a great leader," Merlin piped up. "Besides, he paved the way for you to be well-supported. I think he chose wisely."

"What will you do, Merlin?" Elyan returned.

Good question. In truth, he felt as lost as any of them. He had lived for so long with his purpose directly connected to Arthur. With Arthur gone… "I think I will go visit my mother for awhile. I need some time to…to collect myself. Then I will probably travel more than anything. Arthur's legacy is to unite the land; as I said before, my duty is still to him. But don't worry, you'll see me from time to time. I can't just leave you all behind, can I?"

"Ha, we'd never let you," chimed Gwaine, a ghost of his smile returning.

Merlin looked around at all the faces he had come to regard as friends. The first rays of morning bathed them all in the warmth of hope. Yes, this was the beginning of a new age, one that would benefit all. "Long live Albion."

**A/N: I already know what some people are going to say. No, I am not going to do an epilogue of Merlin's 'end of days,' and his final entrance into Avalon. I want that to rest in yours, the readers' imaginations. I want the golden future we all speak of to linger in the sunrise I left the characters in. Some things do not need to be written, in my opinion. I'm not sure I could ever do it justice.**

**Thanks for stopping by to read :)**


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